Halloween --The Elevator, Conclusion

Luna woke up naked in a tangle of damp. Her room smelled of sex. Her bladder was full but she needed that edge more than she needed to pee. Maybe this is his idea of mercy and I'll be able to...? Gingerly she started rubbing her clit. She felt pressure growing in her middle, both the need to cum and the need to urinate building in tandem. She felt herself getting close to a good hard edge. She thought she was going to go over but the closer she got to maybe an orgasm, the more urgent was her need for the bathroom. It felt so good...

She started to leak. No, just a few more seconds!! she pleaded with herself. But just like every time she'd tried since her Contract, the peak just fizzled and she bolted for the toilet lest she wet the bed. The release of going to the bathroom was a pale imitation of cumming, but she was shocked at how good it felt as it poured out of her. As she cleaned herself she fancied she could hear him laughing faintly as she gave him a new pleasure to sample. Deciding to seek forgiveness instead of permission, she hopped into the shower.

Sure enough, when she returned to her bedroom she saw texts waiting.

Good morning, Pet. Didn't that feel good?

Today I'm giving you the freedom to touch all you wish. Use your hands. Use your toys. Use the furniture. Use that cute new intern if you want. You won't be able to cum, but I'll savour the attempts.

Don't linger at work. Come straight home to your flat after.

She read the message twice looking for traps but didn't see anything obvious. She started to touch herself, but it occurred to her that maybe she didn't want to make things any more difficult for herself than she needed to. As she dressed for work in another loose-fitting black outfit, she imagined his amusement at her declining the freedom he had finally given her. The thought of his mocking laughter made her wet.

She tried to distract herself with work, but all she could think about were the waves of need that kept rushing over her, making her clench her fists and try not to rock her hips too much or press her legs together, and just trying to breathe through them. She might have been allowed to touch, but she still needed to cum. At her lunch break, she locked herself in her office and was about to touch, just a little, when her phone chirped. It was a link from him, to a video. She watched as he took another woman--Luna though she lived on a lower floor--into the bedroom. She was clearly as entranced by his pheromones as Luna imagined she herself had been. In short order he had her naked and, looking into the camera and grinning, he brought her to a screaming orgasm, again and again and again.

It was cruel. And it was hot.

Luna tried furiously to make herself cum. Again and again she got right to the very brink, her nerves ready to short-circuit into orgasm, and again and again she felt it dissipate at the last moment. She finally gave up and spent the rest of the afternoon steeping in a cloud of pure need.

As she approached the door to her flat, her phone chirped with a text:

There's a gift for you inside. Put it on and wait.

She no longer even bothered to ask how he did the things he did, like knowing where she was or getting things into her flat. She just thought of it as more "elevator magic." She unlocked her door and draped over the back of her couch was a very short, very slinky little black dress with a pair of strappy black "fuck-me" heels sitting beside it. She took the dress into the bedroom to find underwear that might suit. Of course, her phone chimed.

No. I said to put it on and wait. I did not say to accessorise. No underthings.

The dress was... something. In many ways it was far more revealing than simply being naked would have been. Her breasts were almost falling out of the bodice, and it was far too short for her to wear without panties. As she slipped on the heels, her phone called her.

Take a little walk around the block. Go to the coffee shop. Do not touch or adjust the dress once you leave the apartment. No tugging it down. Don't so much as brush the hem. I'll know.

Off with you.

Within a few steps it was clear that the dress wanted to ride up as she moved in it. She walked gingerly, her hand twitching toward the hem of the dress but pulling back as though she'd been burned. Her cheeks flamed red as she walked into the cafe, sure that every eye in the place was ogling her. She ordered an Americano and prepared to walk out when the phone chirped.

Sit. Sip. Enjoy.

Oh god, she thought. She sat and felt herself exposed. Before she could stop herself she instinctively gave the dress a futile tug down. She heard the chirp.

What did I say? she read. You had one job. You will be punished. Come to my flat. Now.

She left the coffee unfinished and tottered out of the shop, sure that she'd be stopped for indecent exposure, praying that she wouldn't see anyone she knew.

As she approached his flat, she heard voices. Party-type noises. The door opened before she could knock. He brought her in to see several men and women of varying ages, including the young woman from the earlier video. The air was redolent with smoke and pheromones. Most of the women looked vaguely dazed; the men, for the most part, appeared sharp and creased. He paraded her to the center of the living room. "This is Luna," he announced, "but she will answer to anything you care to call her. Luna has been very bad today." The men made phony clucking sympathetic sounds; a few women, not dazed-looking like the others, perked up and paid attention.

He continued, "Luna needs to learn to follow simple instructions." He gripped the back of her neck, forcing her gaze. "So she is going to do whatever any of you tell her. Don't," he added sternly to the room, "damage my toy in any way."

He left her standing in the middle of the room. Immediately a glass was thrust into her hand. "Scotch. Neat," was growled at her. When she didn't leap to obey a stinging slap was delivered to her rump. "As in NOW!" For the next two hours she alternated between menial tasks and objectification, as her tits were fondled, her ass was squeezed, and her hair was pulled. She fetched drinks, served snacks, and at one point was ordered down on all fours to serve as a footstool.

When the last guest left, she went up to Bell and apologized for disobeying his express order not to adjust the dress. "I've learned my lesson. That was humiliating."

He laughed. "Oh, did you think that was your punishment? Oh, that's rich! No, Pet, that was nothing. Get to the bedroom and wait."

She scurried to comply.

When Luna got to the bedroom, she was stunned to see the girl from the video there. She was laying in the center of the bed, naked, her head back, eyes rolled upward in her head while she languidly masturbated. Luna's tormentor followed her in, wrapping his arms around Luna from behind. Almost immediately her head was swimming as his scent filled her.

"You wondered about your punishment? First, you're going to sit and watch Letitia here cum. Then you and I are going to play."

"What... why?"

"I told you not to adjust the dress. Part of you loved being on display. You can lie to yourself, but you can't hide these things from me. That's literally my bread and butter." He indicated the girl in the bed. "Poor thing. She got stuck in the elevator too. Her kinks are a little different from yours. But in the end she was... inspired to make a contract too."

"What did she ask?" Luna asked.

"That's between her and me," he said, guiding Luna to a chair. "You'll figure it out, you're a bright girl. Oh--watch, but don't touch yourself unless I say." He climbed into bed with Letitia, licked a finger, and let her suck on it. The effect on her was immediate. Luna knew exactly what a rush it could be. Letitia locked lips with Bell and he reached between her legs. Within a few minutes she was having an orgasm. Watching this girl get what was denied to her made Luna squirm and whimper in her chair. Bell brought Letitia to orgasm a dozen times before rolling off her. He looked Luna in the eye.

"How does that make you feel, Pet?"

"Wha-what? I don't know what you mean."

"Don't insult me by playing for time, it's beneath both of us. I asked you a question. I want the truth."

"I hate that I want what she got. I hate that watching it turned me on so much. I hate that you know it, that you can feel it, that you feed on it, on us both."

"Finally. Honesty. Come here, it's time for your punishment."

When she was close enough he grabbed the dress and practically tore it off her, then pulled her close.

"How many times did she cum?" he asked.

"I... not sure," Luna mumbled, his scent making her thinking fuzzy.

"Yes, you are," he said, and slapped her lightly across her face, shocking her. "How many?"

"T-twelve. It was twelve."

"Better." He pushed her back and started using his mouth to edge her. He built her pleasure to a nearly unbearable crescendo and held her there. Her vision pulsed white with her heartbeat. He scraped his teeth over her clit and she tried to bite back a scream and failed. But there was no climax. No release. Just babbling and pleading sounds that were almost language. Her body clenched on the brink and refused to go over. He pulled back and wiped her juice from his chin.

"That's one," he said.

It hit her then what was in store for her. "No, no, please, no, I'll never slip up again, you have my word, please don't do this, I'm begg... ohhhhhh." That last as his face went back to her pussy.

"You are delicious," he murmured and then drove her to the brink and held her there again.

And again.

On the fourth orgasm he started using a finger on her anus just to change the tenor of her screams. She begged him to stop, to let her breathe, to let her think... and to let her cum. He ignored her. She was his to use and he was hungry for her.

On the ninth orgasm a sound made her look over blankly to see Letitia watching and masturbating. She burned with need watching the other girl cum. It was like Bell was transferring her pleasure and her buildup to the other girl. Every time her orgasm fizzled, Letitia exploded with a massive release of her own. Three more times this happened.

"Twelve," Bell announced, and wiped his lips. He turned to Letitia: "Get out." Letitia pouted, but picked up her things and left in a bit of a huff. Then to Luna: "You stay. I want you to feel what a night with me does to you." She shuddered even as he pulled her closer. Good, he smells so GOOD! she thought. She wanted to roll around in that smell, to get it all over her skin and in her hair, like a dog in a pile of autumn leaves. In spite of the fact that he'd just wrung her dry not an hour before, she felt the need and the lust starting to build. Why? she thought. Why me in the elevator the other day?

"Because you're special, Pet," he murmured. She forgot that he could read her thoughts. It was too freaky. "Anyone can cum. It feeds me. It suffices. Like little Letitia. She's like a bucket of fried chicken, filling but... common. You, though... Your need and your lust are exquisite. You are far more satisfying to me. You are contradiction and you are contrast and I find it delicious to torture you because you both love it and hate it. You are both drawn and repelled, and that's the real meat to one such as myself."

His hands began wandering her body, reigniting her need. She did love it. She did hate it. She loved his control and she feared it in equal measure.

He took a fistful of her hair and forced her gaze. He made a tiny gesture with an eyebrow and she felt her mind clear even as the arousal continued to surge through her body in waves. "Think," he said. "There's a part of you that you don't want to face, Pet. That you don't even want to admit exists. You want to cum, but you love what's happening when you're denied an orgasm, love and hate and crave and dread all intertwined. That's the real reason you bargained with more time."

"That's not true!" she said. "I was out of my mind, I wasn't thinking!"

He just looked at her, almost with pity. "Isn't there a part of you that wants this? That wonders what it would be like if I kept you like this always? No deadline, no day circled on the calendar. Never knowing when, or if, you were going to have an orgasm ever again?"

A shiver ran through her at that "or if."

"See?" he said. "The idea fascinates you and repels you. The idea that you love this suffering. The prospect of being kept like this forever and never cumming again if that's what pleases me. It draws you. In other times, I would do just that: keep you, bound to me, needy, wet, throbbing, aching, desperate..." Each word hit her like a slap. "And part of you craves it. A part of you has been unlocked, now, and won't go back into the dark."

The fog of lust began creeping around the edges of her thoughts again as his hands explored her back and her breasts and her ass. Her belly tightened from his words and from the prospect of another building orgasm, an orgasm she knew she wasn't going to have. But her body didn't know that, her body longed to cum. He whispered softly into her ear, hot breath tickling her. "You changed the contract once. You can always amend it again. You can give me control and feel this way forever."

"You can belong to me."

Those were the last words he spoke to her. You can belong to me, but they rang and echoed in her head all night, even as he teased her into utter exhaustion. Could she? she wondered. Could she ever trust another being enough to give them absolute control over her pleasure? The thought made her insides curl with need. Was she actually going to consider this? It's not like pleasure was lacking with Bell. He took her right to that last millimeter of edge, over and over again, leaving her insane and frustrated and desperate... and part of her loved it. Her stubborn streak wanted to see how far she could be pushed, how much she could take before she broke. She had never been so tempted. But that's what demons do! she thought, and she heard him laughing inside her mind.

After that she was lost for a time as he took her to that same impossibly high plateau and left her just millimeters from going over into orgasm. It was all just one continuous blaze of silver fire now, every nerve burning at a fever pitch until even the idea of cumming started to feel like an impossible, far away dream. She vibrated under his touch, vaguely aware of his growing pleasure and satisfaction. Help me cum, she heard him say in her head, Help me and maybe I'll let you join me. Frantically she tried to regain some control over her body and reached for his cock, taking him in her hand even as he continued to hold her in a maelstrom of ecstasy. Soon she felt his impossibly hot seed spurting over her wrist and fingers and the craving to taste him was overwhelming. When he was done twitching in her hand she raised her fingers to her lips and as the first taste of his cum hit her tongue she exploded with another almost-gasm, the strongest one yet. She screamed over his delighted laughter.

Now me! Now me! she screamed internally. Please! You promised!

"I did no such thing," he chuckled. "I said, 'maybe.' Next time do it better, and we'll see." He cut off her howl of frustration with another burning peak of pleasure ripping through her.

He would have tortured her all night had her mortal biology not proved her undoing. The addicted part of her wanted more, always, but her body could only take so much and after yet another peak fizzled out, Luna fizzled with it and slipped into unconsciousness.

She woke up in her own bed, the dress and shoes arranged neatly over a chair. She was vaguely sure she'd had some filthy dreams. She was lying in a damp spot and her horniness had damped down considerably... but it was still there, and she was very much aware of it.

Her phone chirped. You are not to touch yourself this morning, she read. Perhaps later in the day. Text me when you feel horny.

Think about what we discussed regarding amending the contract.

"Amending the contract." Oh, she remembered that "discussion;" like so much with him she was half out of her mind on pheromones and lust while he did things to her body... but she remembered.

Was she really going to consider it? Luna thought about how hot she would find it if she didn't know when it would end, if nothing was promised and it would last beyond the month. The idea was very hot, she decided, but she wasn't sure how committed she was. And yet. The very idea of having to ask for permission every time, of giving that control to another... it set her tingling. She thought about everything that's happened, that is happening, that could happen if she made this insane change. Her emotions were all tangled up, resentment and relief and humiliation and something like acceptance, that came very, very close to "comforting." Seeing the paradox of freedom in slavery. She doesn't want to be intrigued. She doesn't want to be curious.

She doesn't want to be tempted.

Lust and need bloom between her legs. Somewhere, something is delightedly aware of all of it.

Faintly, distantly, she hears him laughing.

Her phone chirped.